Everything in Moderation, Dearie
by Myradream
Summary: Very Dark Rumplestiltsken/Belle story. It's going to get darker, before it gets lighter. Non/con. Really messed up relationship dynamic. Will be violent. Will include stockholm syndrome elements, along with domestic violence and abuse triggers. Once again, a really dark story. You have been warned. Only read this if you are over 18. M For so many reasons. Many triggers.
1. Chapter 1

Belle spun slowly around the room that she'd been given. Her day had been spent reorganizing the china in the cabinets, polishing antique furniture, and scrubbing the floors, and had expected to spend the night once more in the dark cell that had been her home since arriving. Instead, The Dark One had led her here.

Raising her blue eyes to where he stood by the door, she murmured softly a tentative smile forming on her lips. "Thank you. This is a beautiful room. "

He smirked a little. "Well, dearie, you'll be a better servant if you're well rested. "

The claw like, darkened fingers of his hand moved to lift her chin. She could not prevent the shudder that ran through her body, the cotton of the periwinkle blue work dress she had chosen to wear over her chemise, not containing the way her body shook and withdrew when he touched her.

"Tsk, tsk, dearie. You'll need to do better then that. After all, I have you for a lifetime."

She swallowed, and lowered her eyes, and stepped back when he finally released her chin. Her hand moving to press over the sensitive skin, she was certain he had scraped with his nails.

Rumplestiltskin's eyes glittered as he watched her, step back. In a moment a pair of silver scissors was in his hand, and her brow furrowed as she watched him approach, freezing. Whatever could he want with those?

In a flash he had encircled his hand in a patch of her thick dark hair. As quick as the pinch from the tug was there, it was gone. In his hands, his reward for his actions. Smirking and twirling the dark curls around his middle and pointer finger of his right hand.

"Why?" She blinked, watching him, and moving to sit down on the velvet upholstered chair that sat at her new vanity. Needing the space away from him to clear her senses. Watching him from the mirror, so she wouldn't have to look directly into her eyes. She had a feeling in the base of her gut that she wasn't going to like the answer.

The Dark One laughed. "I have a spell I'm preparing that requires the hair of a virgin. "

Blushing brightly, she lowered her eyes to the marble of her vanity top.

"You are a virgin, aren't you, Belle?"

He took the few steps from the center of the room to where she sat, and in a moment the hands that were responsible for the deaths of so many, but also, for the continued safety of her realm, were upon her shoulders. She shuddered, "Of course!" The pink of her cheeks quickly going from flushed pink to rose, now to sunburn red. Her thoughts going back to the few moments she'd had with Gaston, and before him the servant boy Alex. There had been kisses, and touching, but nothing that felt nearly as intimate as the way this monster gripped on to her. She took a breath to steady herself.

"No matter." He responded mildly, the nail of his pointer finger beginning to guide it's way down the skin of her shoulder and arm. "If you're lying, that'll reveal itself as well."

"I am not a liar!" Ripping her arm away and trying to stand, but finding herself pushed back into the chair with surprising strength. His grip tighter then she would have expected, and a surprised whimper escaped her lips.

The hot, wet feeling of his tongue gliding down the back of her neck caused her to struggle further against his attentions, tears prickling her eyes. "Please. Don't do that." The terror she felt was palpable, and The Dark Lord took a moment to revel in it, before withdrawing his hands, and murmuring. "Yes, you taste like a virgin. I look forward to tasting you again when I take that from you."

Tears rolled down her hot cheeks, and he closed the door behind her, locking it. Of course. She gazed at herself in the mirror, before grabbing a jewelry box that sat on the vanity, and threw it with all of her might, watching as the glass shattered, the spreading of the cracks more satisfying then she had expected.

Dropping the wooden inlaid box, with a rose on the cover, and ignoring the pearls, rubies and silver and gold jewelry that spilled out and landed among the broken shards of glass. She noted, numbly that she'd managed to cut herself a little with the impact of the glass. Frowning, she rose, to explore the room.

Finding an attached bath, she moved in, drawing some water to wash her wounds, and sitting on the side of the copper tub as it filled. Ignoring the mirror that was on the opposite wall. She hadn't had good luck with those today.

When the tub was half full, she began to get undressed. Closing and locking the door, as if that could prevent him from joining her if he so chose. All the same, it gave her a shred of dignity to hold on to. She added some of the sweet smelling bubbles sitting in a glass bottle at the end of the tub. Climbing into the sweet, heated water, and watching as the red blood of the small lacerations on her arm pinkened the water around her, and faded into the color of the water, and disappearing.

Despite herself, she began to relax in the water. It had been so long since she had enjoyed a nice long bath, and the bubbles seemed to coax the knots and pain of her muscles away. It hadn't been labeled, and she wasn't even aware of the impending sleep, before it took her.

The Dark one was surprised to find his caretaker nude and asleep on the tub, when he had come to complain about his supper not being served on time as was his usual custom. He froze when he saw her naked in the tub, only bubbles to hide her attributes that he had been so eager to explore. Picking up the glass bottle she'd poured bubbles from, and chuckling to himself as he sniffed the Jasmine muscle and sleeping draught.

"One or two drops would have done the trick, dearie. Now you'll sleep like the dead for the next couple of nights. Everything in moderation." He smirked, and began the task of getting her out of the hazardous water, and somewhere more comfortable.

To his credit, he used his magic to lead her to her bed, heal her wounds as she slept, and when he slipped the white gown with the yellow ribbons around the waist and neck, he didn't take any physical liberties beyond those necessary for dressing her. And though he took his time with the 14 individual buttons that led from her navel to her neck, he didn't touch her. Simply laying her in her bed, and pulling the blankets up around her.

His eyes narrowed, as he considered that choice, brushing it off and muttering to himself. " She's asleep. What's the point?" And he gave one last glance to the brunette beauty that slept in his castle, the sleeping draught having drawn all the fear and worries he had caused her out of her expression. Her peaceful respite left him unsettled, and he locked her again in her room, and strung his bow, darting off into the forest. He had to kill something. That would make him feel better.


	2. Chapter 2

Two full days and nights passed before Belle finally opened her eyes. Blinking, disoriented. Expecting to be in the dungeon, and sitting up slowly, her muscles slowly awakening from the hibernation she had unwittingly thrown herself into.

Confusion clouded her mind as she struggled to rise to a sitting position, her limbs felt heavy and tired. She gave a little gasp when she saw his form standing at the foot of the bed.

He smirked in response and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and she struggled to pull her body away, and his hand tightened around her wrist to prevent it. Murmuring.

"The bubbles you used for your bath were a sleeping draught. One or two drops to ensure a full nights rest. You used half the bottle. I'm afraid you won't be very good for your duties for the next several days. You'll need to stay in bed."

She didn't like the way his eyes travelled down the length of her body, and though her wrist was still held by his vice like grip, she used the other hand to pull the down comforter up around her chest. Giving her another layer of protection from him.

Rumpelstiltsken's eyes danced darkly as she tried to hide herself from him, His mouth set into a firm line as he raised his hand and used his magic to banish the comforter to the other side of the room. She gasped in surprise, and the chill of the air caused goosebumps on her flesh.

"Since you are unable to complete your usual duties, I thought we might play a game."

Her mouth dried and she whispered, afraid of the answer. "What kind of game?"

His grin widened, and a delighted laugh split the silence the great castle, and she shuddered at the sound of it. His laugh continued, taking a more sinister turn towards the end.

"A game where we get to know each other better. You will need to drink this." And he offered her a glass from beside her bed, of a pink, iridescent liquid. She studied it and glanced back to him. Shaking her head a little. She didn't want to play.

His hand tightened on her wrist, murmuring quietly. His voice all threat and danger. "It was not a request, Dearie."

Belle considered her options, or the lack of them. And after gnashing her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut, she exhaled and muttered. "Fine. But I expect you to be a gentleman."

His rich laughter caught her off guard, as he released her wrist, and she took the glass from him, drinking the syrupy sweet liquid in the crystal glass. Blinking at the warmth that coursed through her, asking after her first sip. "Is there alcohol in this?"

He smirked, and waited for her to finish the glass before answering. "Yes. That is one of the ingredients. The first question. Do you like to be kissed?"

And she blushed fiercely at that, not liking the direction this was taking, and attempted to retreat further into the perceived safety of her bed. Managing after a moment of steeling herself. "No. I do not like to be kissed."

The second the words were out of her mouth a scalding pain began in the base of her belly, and she blinked, gasping from it, Her hand immediately moving to her stomach, peering up to him wide eyed . "What have you done to me?!" Her voice strangled and sharp as the pain coursed through her.

His diabolical giggle did not help matters, and she began to thrash, trying to do something, anything to avoid the burn in her belly. Beads of sweat forming along the roots of her dark hair on her temples, her heart beat racing.

"You've all ready lied, Belle. Whatever will we do with you? Unbutton your first button."

She stared at him, and when she didn't immediately do as he ordered, she felt her arms rising against her will, to begin to undo the button. Even though her hands shook, as she battled with all of her might against her limbs that were possessed by magic, and cared little of what the soul of the inhabitant wanted. When the first button was undone, the pain ebbed away, and within a moment, the suffering that had her wondering if her captor had poisoned her was gone.

"You said you aren't a liar, Belle. And you have shown that to be untrue. " He frowned, watching her. "Let's try this again. Do you like to be kissed?"

"NO!" She railed against him, and tears flooded her eyes when the familiar pain again invaded her abdomen, and she gasped from the strain of it, Feeling the fire continue up past her belly now and to her breasts, an agonized scream finally ripping it's way from her lips, and he leaned in, undoing the next pearl button of her nightgown, and the pain left once more.

This occurred three more times, before, finally she could take no more. A quivering, sweaty heap, curled into the fetal position on the bed. When he asked her again, she managed, her voice shaking.

"Yes. I enjoy being kissed."

The burn did not return and she peered up to him and he smiled triumphantly. murmuring.

"Good girl."

His lips were upon hers before she could close her eyes, and she didn't have the energy to fight him off, but she didn't actively participate, and his displeasure was evident. He murmured.

"Not very good at it though, are you girl? We'll have to devote some time to education, I think. Next question. Have you ever touched yourself…? Here? *And his hand moved to rest against her most private spot and she gasped, blushing fiercely and crying out in embarrassment. "Of course not!"

She doubled over in pain when the burning response of the truth serum in the potion she had ingested reacted, in her belly again, but this time continuing down through her pelvis. She cried out, and he laughed, undoing another button. The sixth. And the pain left her. The nightgown was just barely revealing the curvature of her left breast, and she curled her body up tighter, and began to sob into the bed, and he slid into the bed beside her, and pulled her body against his.

"Shhh. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You're really going to have to stop lying to me, Belle. Your defiance… it stirs me." He added, pulling her tighter to him, his arms snaking around her small waist, and guiding her so that she could feel his need, hard and unyielding, through his trousers, and through the soft cotton of her nightgown, pressed against her quivering thigh.

His hand began to slide it's way up the pale muscles of her leg, pausing as he snaked his hand to begin to explore one creamy thigh and then the other. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered "Don't. Please don't."

"That isn't part of the game, Belle. Do you like it when I touch you like this."

"No! I hate you!"

And while the second part of her statement was true, her bodies response to his touch was undeniable, and the pain that burned within her stomach was her torture for lying, but not nearly as much of a betrayal as that of her own body turning against her. His hands moved deftly up to unbutton the next button. His hands sliding past the cotton of her gown, to tighten around her breasts, Pinching at her rosy nipples, she whimpered, struggling against his touch. Kissing his way down her throat and shoulder, and asking again.

"Do you like it when I touch you like this?"

And she shuddered, knowing one more blast from the pain of his potion due to a lie would be too much for her to bear. And she whispered, her voice shaking.

"Yes."

He smiled, and gave a little kiss to her jawline before murmuring.

"Now we're getting somewhere. "

His questions continued, and her buttons stayed in place as he learned all of the ways she enjoyed being touched, before moving his finger to her slick entrance, whispering.

"Are you ready?"

"No!" Was her response, and no flames of pain accompanied her words, and he paused. A low growl escaping his lips.

"You're not lying."

She shook her head, absolutely shaking from everything he had done to her. He hadn't penetrated her her yet, but he had touched every inch of her flesh exposed from the undone buttons, and much of the flesh below that, and though the shame of having felt pleasure at his touch was there, so too was her certainty of being afraid and not wanting to be taken like that.

He growled and undid his belt buckle, before pushing his hips forward to release his engorged member. She stared at it, horrified that the same dark ripple in his skin was there, between his legs. She looked at the monster there, and whispered softly.

"Please, don't."

The Dark One growled again in displeasure, and wrapped his hand around her wrist, and dragged her hand down to his need, hissing. "Stroke."

When she tried to remove her hand, his grip tightened, and again, the unfamiliar feeling of her arms struggling against her wishes, as they moved to do his bidding, her soft hand encircling his engorgement. She squeezed her eyes shut, as the magic controlled her every move, tears rolling down her cheeks. His groans and moans sounded strange, surreal, as she tried to picture herself away from all this. He arched his hips forward, and with the magic guiding her, her palm cupped his tip, the hot liquid spewing forth, He lowered his hips, and growled a little.

"Next time, I will come inside of you And you will carry my heir."

He kissed her, and when she struggled against it, he used his magic once more, to coax her tongue into a dance, and when he broke it, she gasped for breath. He went to the bathroom, and threw her a towel after cleaning himself up. She used it to dry her hand, and she curled up on the bed, her back facing him, her body raw and ragged from the serum, the magic, and the lingering effects of the sleeping draught.

"I'll bring you some dinner. And then we'll continue. Don't you dare button up, dearie. I want you exactly as I left you." His threat given, he left her, closing the door behind her the familiar click of the lock reminding her, as if she could forget, that this was her cage.

She wept into her pillow bitterly. For the girl she had been, and the woman that this monster would craft her into. And he wanted her to carry his child. The horror of a life with him, had never really touched her. She should have known it was coming, but she cursed her naiveté. He was a man, and a monster. How she ever thought she could have remained unscathed seemed a wonder now. She held tight to her pillow, and whispered darkly into it.

"I hate you, Rumplestiltsken."

And she meant every word.


End file.
